Alternate Ending  Mockingjay
by Flameofthesoul
Summary: WARNING: Contains spoilers.  For Hunger Games fans, this is an alternate ending to Mockingjay.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING: Spoilers ahead!**

**Hi guys!  
This is an alternate ending to The Hunger Games series. Obviously, because it's an alternate, there are going to be spoilers, so DON'T read it unless you've already finished reading Mockingjay. Thanks! Please review it and let me know what you think.  
-**

It was the night of President Snow's execution.

Flavius, Octavia and Venia were flitting around me, fixing my hair, nails and face.  
_I must have made it quite a task for them_, I thought. _I haven't exactly been maintaining my looks._

__After what seemed like a lot of primping, they eventually wheeled me in front of a mirror, and I had to admit that they had done their job very well.

I may have been unstable on the inside, but outside I looked fierce and brave - exactly the way a warrior emerging from combat should be. If only I knew how the girl in the mirror was supposed to feel.

Flavius began to say something to me, but stopped when there was a soft knocking at the door.

I looked up just as Gale stepped into the room. "Can I have a minute?" he asks.  
I nodded almost imperceptibly, but my prep team was already stumbling awkwardly around the room, not sure where to go. Then Octavia squeaked, "In here!" and they crowded into the adjoining bathroom.

Gale walked up beside me quietly, looking at my reflection, as I looked into the reflection of his dark gray eyes.

He put his hand on my shoulder, and briefly I thought of how much I'd missed this last year. How many potential memories of him had been lost to the whirling sands of time. Memories of him, my mother, and even my sister, now gone forever.

Had I not been reaped what seemed so long ago, had I not been forced to star in the events that brought the Districts to a boiling point, Prim might still be alive. Gale and I would probably be engaged by now. I probably would never have met Peeta, who occupied my thoughts so often.

I allowed myself to relax a little at his touch, exhaling deeply.

"I brought you this." He says, lifting a nearly empty sheath of arrows into my hands. Only one remained. I opened my mouth to speak, but as usual he knew what I was going to ask almost before I did.

"It's supposed to be symbolic. You firing the last shot of the war."

I felt my forehead crease as I knitted my eyebrows together. Symbolism at an execution. That was fussy to the point of being something I would think Snow himself would command for Coin's execution, rather than the opposite. A very Capitol thing to do.

"What if I miss?" I ask, sarcasm dripping bitterly from my words. "Does Coin retrieve it and bring it back to me? Or does she shoot Snow through the head herself?"

"You won't miss." Gale said, adjusting the strap of the thing on my shoulder.  
His words faded on the cold air of room, and slowly silence descended upon us.

We stood there a while, facing each other but not meeting each other's eyes.

Finally I said, "You never came to visit me in the hospital."

I felt his gaze flicker to my face, but I continued to boor my eyes into the soft blue carpet, refusing to look up.

Eventually I spoke again, this time voicing the thought that had been gnawing at me since I first woke up in that hospital bed.

"Was it your bomb?"

I felt his grip on my shoulder tighten, and then he let his hand drop to his side.

"I don't know. Neither does Beetee. Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it." He said in a quiet tone. From the way he said it, I knew Prim's death had pained him nearly as much as it had pained me.

I didn't answer.

A single teardrop rolled down my cheek, an expression of loss and love for both Prim and Gale. I knew then that I was losing him too.

"That was the only thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family," he says.

"Shoot straight, okay?" He held my face in one hand for a second, and then began to leave.

Suddenly, as if on its own, my mind flashed through all my moments with Gale; hunting at our place in the woods, trading at the Hob, those long conversations about the Government, protected by the tall trees. The last to appear before my eyes however were those rare kisses. The kiss in the woods, which had been a complete surprise and had set the ball rolling in a new direction. The kiss on the table in the kitchen of my old home, when Gale had been under morphling.

Neither of us had actually kissed each other with the other's consent until that one night in the woods outside District 13, when I had given up Peeta for a madman and had fallen onto Gale's shoulders as a second choice.

And then the finality of our conversation hit me, and I hated it.

"Gale!" I choked out.

He turned, his hand already on the doorknob, and looked at me silently.

"It...it doesn't matter." I said quietly.

He turned to face me, a strange look on his face that I couldn't quite place.

"What doesn't?" He asked.

I inhaled shakily, trying to swallow the tears that threatened to spill over again.

"You asked if it mattered if you made the bomb. If it mattered if the Capitol sent it or the Rebels. If it mattered if you had any connection to Prim's d...to Prim." I began. "It doesn't matter. Either way, it wasn't you who ordered the bomb to be sent out. You didn't...you didn't kill her."

I finally looked into Gale's eyes, seeing the look of sad astonishment there. He still didn't speak, so I made my point clearer.

"I love you."

He stared at me for a moment, searching my face for any signs of indecision or hesitation, but I had chosen.

I realized then, in the minutes before, where I'd thought that I'd really lost him, that Gale has always been there for me to count on.

I'd never experienced a time where I knew that if I wanted to, I could never go back, I could never love him again because he had moved on.

Although I loved Peeta, Gale had been there for me to fall back on, and I'd always taken that for granted.

His words came back to me, from a time that seemed so long ago.

"We could make it, you know. We could run away"...even then he had loved me, and I was just too blind to see.

Peeta had loved me just as unconditionally, of course, but I had to accept that the me that he loved was all an act, all a show for the people who had been watching us from the moment the first Games began. The real me, the one who wasn't happy and naïve or fierce and sexy, the one who was only me, Katniss, he had never spoken to.

Back before the Games, he never said hello.

Gale had been there for me, though. Gale had known me and loved me before I became Katniss, Girl On Fire. He had loved me before I became Katniss, the Mockingjay. He had loved me when I was just Katniss, Catnip.

I repeated my words again one more time, confirming them for both of us.

"I love you, Gale."

He stepped close to me, lacing the fingers of one hand through mine and pushing my hair behind my ear with the other.

"Yes, but am I the only one?" He asked, voice steady, as if resigned to my answer already.

I sighed. "No..."

He pursed his lips a little, waiting for me to finish, but knowing what I would say.

"Not yet." I continued. "I haven't told Peeta yet. Please Gale, don't give up on me." I said, and threw myself into his arms.

He hugged me stiffly, as if unsure of what to do, but in the reflection in the mirror, I saw him break into a smile.

A pained smile, tinged with guilt, worry, and the residual feeling of general loss everyone felt in these days following the war, but a smile nonetheless, and I knew then why I had made the decision I did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Story picks up after Snow's execution, after Katniss killed Coin, after she was locked up, tried and got off, and just after Katniss was sent back to District 12.  
**

I woke up that first morning in a fit of confusion.

Bolting upright, I scanned my surroundings. Clean bedroom, soft sheets, a familiar aura.

Then my eyes settled on the open closet door, through which showed an array of day dresses.

One, a light pink with roses embroidered around the hem, had been Prim's.

That's when I remembered.

I was in the large, spacious house in the Victor's Village, home, or at least where I'd lived since my other house had been destroyed in the bombing.

I blearily wiped my eyes and stretched, in no hurry to rise from my sleep.

I knew what would be waiting for me. No mother, surely. She'd be too happy with the slew of patients in the Capitol to return to a place as dismal and full of bad memories and death as this.

No Prim, I remembered, that same sharp pain that I'd felt when she'd first gone digging inside me, threatening to come out.

I squelched it, determined not to cry again today. If I couldn't cope with death, I'd end up like Annie Cresta.

I wondered vaguely how she was before rising and continuing my mental list.

No Snow. That, at least, I could be grateful for. He was good and dead, I thought, opening the door out to the hallway.

No Coin, either, I thought, descending the tall staircase and padding in bare feet out to the kitchen.  
I'd made sure of that.

I opened the cabinets, looking for some kind of food.

I must have made some noise, because the next thing I knew, someone I never expected to see again tapped my shoulder.

I turned to see the broad, toothless smile of Greasy Sae.

"Hullo. Glad to see you up. Want some stew? I 'ave some fresh." She said, and suddenly a flash of half-awake memories returned to me.

"Please." I said. "Sae, were you here this whole time?"

She nodded. "Of course, you don't remember? Feedin you and cleaning. Not that you made much of a mess, always asleep like you were."

"How long did I sleep?" I asked, surprised.

"Oh, three, four days." She said it casually, as if people always slept this long.

I left her then to her work, intent as she was over the stewpot.

She brought me my bowl wordlessly and then left me to my thoughts.

Suddenly I realized who I hadn't thought to ask about.

"Sae!" I called after her, jumping up from the table and sprinting down the hall behind her.

"Aye?"

"Where are Peeta and Gale?" I asked.

Once upon a time, I would have had to use their first and last names and a brief description of what they look like to jog Sae's memory. Now, she knew who I meant immediately. I guess that's what happens when your life is televised.

"Both in the Victor's Village. Mister Hawthorne-"

"Gale." I interjected.

"Alright then. Gale lives in one of the fancy houses down the south end, working as an officer and reporting back to the Capitol about work in the mines."

I nodded. "And Peeta's here too?"

"Of course." She said. "He wouldn't abandon you. He's in the same Victor's House he had before, running a new bakery out of it I last heard."

Again I nodded.

"Thanks."

I waited until she'd gone, and then pulled my boots and jacket off of the coatrack by the door, put them on and pushed out into the cold air.

A strong breeze whipped about my face as I strode to the street, and I heard the trees behind the great District fence creak and groan, their leaves rustling.

When I reached the part of the road where I would need to decide who to visit first, I sighed.

The choice had already been made.

I had to go break Peeta's heart.

"He would never abandon you!" Greasy Sae's words echoed in my head all the way to his house, all the way up the path and reverberated loudly as I knocked on the front door.

"Hello?" Someone called from within, their voice muffled.

"Peeta?"

"Katniss?" The door flew open and I was pulled into his smiling embrace.

That's when I broke a little, seeing his smile, his delight at the mere fact that I was here.

I began to cry into his shoulder.

As he began to realize this, he panicked, an obvious response from someone who had just been through a war. Tears were never good, but especially so during a war.

"What's wrong, Katniss? Who's hurt?"

"N-nobody." I choked, trying desperately to swallow my tears.

I didn't want him to think I had any doubts about my choice.

And I didn't.

I only felt bad about having to say it.

At least, that's what I told myself as I straightened and pulled away from him.

"Well, what's wrong?" He asked, gently brushing away my tears.

I batted his hands away, but allowed him to close the door behind me and walk me down the hall.

I sat down in the first chair I saw - a stiff wooden one with a seat and armrests worn soft from use.

"I'm sorry, Peeta." I said quietly.

There was a pause then, but not one of confusion. The confusion melted from Peeta's face as soon as the words had escaped my trembling lips.

He closed his eyes, tilting his head backwards.

I hung my head, knees touching, but feet splayed in opposite directions, and stared at my hands in my lap.

The silence seemed to stretch forever.

Finally, he sat down in a chair opposite me.

A little while after that he said, eyes on the floor, "I expected this."

"Why?" I asked, taken by surprise. I had loved Peeta just as much as Gale. Why would he expect me to reject him?

"I don't know." He sighed. "You've been friends and lovers longer than I've even been around. You had to make a decision eventually. How could I compete?"

I reached out my hand, intending to place it on his, but he pulled his own hands out of my reach.

"That's not it, Peeta." I said quietly.

He met my gaze, holding it a moment before I realized he was waiting for me to say more.

"I...He...Gale just..." I stuttered.

"It's okay, Katniss. I get it." He said.

There was another of those gaping silences, causing a separation between us I hadn't felt since he'd gone mad from being tortured.

After a few moments of deafening silence, I stood.

Wordlessly, I started to leave.

Wordlessly, he let me.

I looked back before shutting the door.

"Peeta."

"Mmhmm?"

"Are we...is it really okay?"

He thought for a moment before looking up.

"No. No, it's not okay." He answered. "I'll accept it. I understand. I expected it. But it's not okay. It still hurts."

I felt tears prick at my eyes.

He angrily wiped away his own.

He rose.

I nodded.

He nodded.

I walked down the hall, feeling his eyes on my back.

I shut the door, on his house, on our relationship, and, as it seemed, on our friendship.

I shut the door, and with that, the tale of the star-crossed lovers came to an end. 


End file.
